


Raised Bars and Tangled Threads

by Schalakitty



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Frottage, Headcanon, In a manner of speaking, M/M, Masturbation, Soul Sex, Voice Kink, divine subspace, humor and smut, threads of fate - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28100574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schalakitty/pseuds/Schalakitty
Summary: Considering for a moment, he then settles on, "I want to know." Lightly placing his own hand over Death's, Zagreus asserts to them both, "I'm not afraid.""Reckless as ever," Thanatos points out first, but then quickly amends, "but I appreciate the reassurance."-----Zagreus has some questions, Thanatos might have some answers, and both of them learn a lot more than they originally intended.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 241





	Raised Bars and Tangled Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Schala back again with more Hades smut! I know it seems like this and [The Concoction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021647) were released basically back to back but it's more that I've been slowly chipping away at these fics for weeks now and only recently had the inspiration to finish and post them. 
> 
> Anyway, this is another case of "This started as a joke and then I just kept writing" that I hope folks will enjoy. 
> 
> As always, thanks to my beta reader and partner [WickedOrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin) for their editing assistance and the ThanZag discord for their encouragement. Enjoy!

Even if his duties never truly cease, the eventual ease of Demeter's long winter and the receding tides of Ares' war allow even Death a bit of metaphorical breathing room. He is able to spend a bit of time at the House without the incessant need to work a constant pressure upon his chest at the very least. 

For once, he can appreciate the growing collection of furniture Zagreus has commissioned for his favorite corner of the House. Dressed down from his official regalia, Thanatos instead lounges on the long setee in a simple but stately midnight black chiton edged in gold and pinned on his left shoulder by a winged skull peronai. The few volumes on the nearby table proved to not simply be decorative, instead containing samplings of mortal writings. 

Just as he is flipping through a volume of pastoral poetry, a sudden, familiar whoosh echoes down the hall. It is the only warning he gets before flaming feet just barely break in front of the expensive rug and he is properly greeted with, "There you are, Than! You're just who I've been looking for."

He sweeps his gaze over Zagreus, the Prince dressed in a similarly causal fashion this evening (morning?), his scarlet chiton cinched tight at the waist and gently fluttering against his bare thighs. "And why are you seeking Death tonight, Zag?" He gently teases while setting the book aside. 

"Do I need a reason?" The Prince replies, voice and eyes warm as climbs onto the cushions, already assured of his welcome. "I  _ do _ have a legitimate question, but I believe I'm allowed to seek the company of my Beloved for no particular reason other than the simple joy of seeing you." 

Regardless of how many times the term has passed between them, it still leaves Thanatos momentarily breathless (more so than usual) each time. "Well, here I am," he murmurs, glancing aside from the bright, near blinding spark in those mismatched eyes. "What did you wish to ask me?"

Allowing that bit of shyness to pass, Zagreus then gets to the matter at hand. "So Meg brushed me off and Achellies seems to think it might be a part of my Godhood, and then Skelly said…" He clears his throat before sliding into an uncomfortably accurate imitation of the skeleton's voice, "'That's above my pay grade, boyo. Better ask one of your other battle buddies 'bout it.'" 

"Zagreus, none of this is actually  _ asking _ me a question," he interrupts, if only to cease the dissonance of  _ that voice _ coming out of the Prince's mouth. 

"I'm getting there," comes the counter, any fire within it diffusing into soft chuckles. "So my question is - when you're fighting Wretches, can you see The Bar over them?" 

"The Bar?" Thanatos parrots back in his signature deadpan. 

A frown tugs on Zagreus' lips, not at all eager to have to explain the concept once more. But he launches into anyway with the hopes that this might be the final time, "Rather like a line of red ink in the air, all bordered in silver, that shrinks down as I deal damage until it vanishes completely along with the Wretch itself. Wretches in armor have a golden Bar until I pierce through it and truly formidable foes have Bars that seem to span whole Chambers."

"I see," Death answers after a beat, arms crossed as he settles into contemplation, trying to visualize what Zagreus described. "Sounds almost like a Thread." 

"Yes! … Maybe," he jumps ahead a bit with the answers, but that is still more than others offered him. "You'll have to tell me more about the Threads, but it's probably not that far off from what I understand of them." 

Now the one tasked with explanations, Thanatos takes a moment to outline the concept, "I suppose they are close enough to your 'Bars' when it comes to being a visual depiction of life essence. Though from my perspective, a Thread is either Cut or Not. Even if it is only held together by the barest fiber, the Thread is still intact until the Fates decide to Cut it." 

Nodding along, Zagreus then inquires, "So is that why your power simply  _ cuts through _ any Wretch we face in our Contests? It's just you snipping the Thread?" 

"In a manner of speaking. Their mortal Threads were cut long ago - what remains here in the Underworld is a pale imitation, but it can be Cut and Reformed as many times as needed," he elaborates, letting the Prince's imagination fill in the pieces. 

Which it does, Zagreus slowly turning the concept over a few times. But then, he simply needs to know, "Can you see  _ my _ Thread?"

Truthfully, it is only a matter of concentration for Thanatos to shift his focus, to peel back the layers and catch a glimpse of the underlying Tapestry. Unlike his Sisters, he can't quite grasp the totality of the design - his existence more akin to the neat hemstitching around the borders of their work, the edging keeping the cut Threads bound in place and time. 

He focuses on his own Thread first as his standard compass point. Funeral black and everlasting gold entwined, tightly braided with ancient, divine energy. Perhaps a bit frayed in a few spots, but forever solid and unbreakable.

And from there, it is easy enough to find Zagreus' Thread, twisted and entwined as they are. A vivid, sanguine red against the Tapestry, but if Thanatos looked closely he could see the stripes of emerald green from Queen Persephone, the gold of his Godhood, and the deepest black of Mother Nyx's magic all interwoven within. 

But the real story is in the knots of the Thread, and the ways the Styx has stitched it back together. A great cluster of them - almost Gordian in nature - sit at the start of his escape attempts, thick and gnarled with repeated failures. Only further down do they start to spread out, spreading further and further apart as the Thread grows thicker, stronger with experience and aid. 

(He dares not look further back to that first knot, tied just a hair's breadth from the thin and fragile start of the Thread. A knot tied with equal parts blessing and curse.)

"Of course, I see yours," he finally answers, eyes still not quite focused on the God sitting beside him. The rest of reality goes a bit hazy around the edges when he perceives what lies just Beyond, but he remains acutely aware of Zagreus' presence as always. 

And even now, the Prince tries to follow his line of sight, to work out the source. Reaching out to the space he  _ thinks _ Thanatos is staring at, he then inquires, "Can you touch it? I can never touch the Bars, merely be aware of their presence." 

Oh, a dangerous question indeed. Normally he would not dare to touch a Thread, unless already Cut by Atropos' scissors. But Zagreus was one of the precious few who willingly accepts his touch, perhaps the only one who truly  _ longs _ for it. "I've never tried," he confesses, already extending his hand out to where it hovers between them. "I can't promise to know how it will affect you." 

Considering for a moment, he then settles on, "I want to know." Lightly placing his own hand over Death's, Zagreus asserts to them both, "I'm not afraid." 

"Reckless as ever," Thanatos points out first, but then quickly amends, "but I appreciate the reassurance." 

He still moves ever so slowly, starting with only the barest brush of his fingertips. But even that inspires an involuntary shudder from Zagreus. With no way to tell the exact nature though, Thanatos immediately snaps his hand back.    
  
Only to have it breathlessly pushed back down by the Prince, cheeks flushed as they reestablish contact. "It's…" His words turn to cotton in his mouth as Thanatos' hand now encircles the better part of his Thread. "Intoxicating?" Zagreus finally settles on, not quite having the vocabulary to describe the sensation. 

And now, Thanatos is painfully aware that they're seated out in the  _ open _ of the West Hall, and to all watching from a distance, Zagreus appears to be a warm combination of drunk and aroused beside him on the settee as he merely strokes the air between them. "Let's go somewhere a bit more  _ private." _ And while he can't shift with the Prince to the Surface, across the House  _ can _ be done with a bit of effort. Maybe teleporting them both will only raise further suspicions but it is far better than the alternative. 

But the sudden sensation has Zagreus reeling a bit as they land on his bed, sending him tumbling straight into his partner's lap. They eventually end up as a tangle of limbs that is very slow to come undone, especially with the Prince still riding the pleasant high of those first fleeting touches to his Thread. "Well, now that we're here…  _ alone _ …" He starts off with a spark in his mismatched eyes, "Do you think I could touch your Thread? If I can see the Bars, maybe with practice I can see the Threads?"   
  
"It doesn't work like that, Zag," he insists automatically. But then, Thanatos thinks back to their conversation and perhaps he isn't quite so sure. "At least, I don't think so."    
  
"Guide me then? Maybe if you show me, I can?" He doesn't really know where to place his hand, so it ends up simply splayed across Thanatos' chest until it can find a better use. 

Considering for a moment, he then - with careful motions and a bit of disappointment on both their parts - takes hold of that hand. "I'm not quite sure if I can help you see it. I suppose you need to picture it like one of your Bars, but it should be about here," Thanatos instructs as he draws that hand closer and closer to where his own Thread rests between them. 

Now that he's aware of looking for something, Zagreus can feel a bit of resistance in the air. Subtle, but clearly there. "No, not quite like the Bars," he agrees, feeling out the edges of what remains unseen. "So you'll have to tell me if I'm successful." 

As it turns out, the feedback is quite undeniable as the same shiver runs down Thanatos' spine as the Prince's clever fingers skate along the twists of his Thread. Different from physical touch, yes. Something deeper, as if Zagreus could reach within him and stroke over his Divinity, the very epicenter of his immortal soul.

"Good, but strange all the same?" The Prince murmurs, now gauging Thanatos' interest in kind. 

"A different kind of intimacy," comes the agreement as Zagreus' cautious touches continue to slide against the divine fibers. It leads Death to reach back in kind, once again taking hold of that precious Thread.

Their hands glide across the space between the physical realm and the Aether, Thanatos' sure with eons of experience and Zagreus' careful with new knowledge. Their touches echo inside and out, the Prince's sacred Blood burning in response to each one. Closer still, their fingertips now caressing skin and Thread alike in trembling touches.

"Right here," Thanatos swipes across the air, both of them shuddering in response, "that's where they twine." A twist in the two previously parallel lines, preluded by the centuries of friendship before it and encouraged with each last exchange between them - of nectar, of keepsakes, of ambrosia, of hearts. 

Concentrating on that single point, Zagreus feels the pressure building behind his eyes as he struggles to  _ perceive _ what he now knows is there. Just on the edges of his consciousness, like the whispers that guide him to primordial Chaos or the instincts that drive his many weapons. 

And then he  _ blinks. _

It's blurred around the edges compared to the Bars, more like a mist in the air than solid objects. But he can make out the colors at least - the vibrant black-gold-red of their connection shimmering before him. "Oh," Zagreus whispers, voice soft but revenant all the same. "Blood and Darkness, Than, you never told me they were so beautiful like this." 

"So you  _ can _ see them?" He seeks to verify, his motions slowing simply to let the other God think.   
  
Not that coherency comes easily, given their current intimacy - physical and metaphysical alike. "I'm at least  _ aware _ of them? Don't know if I could see anyone else's. Don't know if I'd want to either." Glancing between the twine of their threads and Thanatos' amber bright eyes, the Prince confesses, "I like that idea that this is something  _ special _ for us. Don't you agree?"   
  
The ichor is now rapidly rising to his cheeks, gilding them with a warm assortment of unbidden emotions. So accustomed to deflection that he might as well be blessed by Lady Athena, it takes a sizable effort for Thanatos to answer, even quietly, with, "I… I do, actually. I've certainly never let anyone else touch my Thread for example." 

"Where else may I touch you then?" Zagreus prompts, trying to keep at least a few impulses in check as he first seeks Death's approval. 

Those golden eyes narrow, but the heat remains within them as he allows, "Anywhere, just so long as you don't stop." 

It's all the permission the Prince needs to slide them right into a smoldering kiss. The clash of opposing temperatures - his hellfire heat against Thanatos' freezing cold. And the union of commingling flavors - his bright spice along with his Beloved's lush richness. If time and passions allowed, they could probably chain kisses together for hours at a time. 

But that thought would have to wait for another time as they had far more pressing matters to attend to.    
  
"Can we…" Zagreus stalls out as few quick nips pass between. He quickly recovers though to guide Thanatos down, letting him sink into the plush covers. "Can we adjust but keep touching? Anywhere? Everywhere?"

Luckily, Death catches on quickly and expends a fraction of his power to shift their Threads a bit closer to their new position. Enough that they can both continue to stroke along the divine fibers along with each other. As Zagreus is ever so eager to do, his free hand sliding up along one tan thigh, tracing over the folds of the loincloth hiding beneath that dark chiton. 

Long legs enclose around him, trapping him exactly where he wants to be. Not that he doesn't have the elder God pinned in his own way, the combined slide of his hands encouraging Thanatos' slow, sweet surrender. Well, maybe not exactly  _ slow _ as he manages to unwind that loincloth and give a few pumps in earnest. It earns him one of those low reverberating moans, the kind that linger in the air and sink straight into his cock. 

The effect is impossible to ignore as the hem of Zagreus' chiton rides up higher, revealing that he absolutely did  _ not  _ bother with a loincloth. With a snort, Thanatos teases, "So, you were truly planning to only  _ talk _ with me tonight?" 

"Let me have a little faith in my charm, Than," he counters before leaning down to pepper that blessedly exposed chest with kisses. Another slide of his fingers along the gold-black Thread has his Beloved arching upwards to meet his mouth, Zagreus catching one dusky nipple between his teeth. Only when his nips and licks leave it properly hardened does he pull back with a confident smirk. 

One broken by a sharp gasp as dark nails rake over his own Thread and his hips jerk forward of their own accord. "Blast, Than… let me just…" Zagreus scrambles a bit, but quickly finds his place right between those strong, tempting thighs. Close enough to draw both their cocks together in his grasp, a shaky stroke helping to spread pre-cum over their lengths. 

"Here." Resourceful as ever, Thanatos passes over their favorite crystalline amphora from its hiding spot amid the books stashed away in the shelves of the Prince's headboard. 

It's all the invitation Zagreus needs, wedging the cork free just enough to drizzle their cocks in the slippery substance and make the slide all that easier. Even when tightly encircling them both, his hand can now easily slide along in concert with rhythmic rolls of his hips. For a few moments, the room is filled with only their gasping moans and the sinfully slick sounds of skin against skin. 

He  _ feels _ more than sees the next touch, unable to observe the more subtle shifts when the Threads remain scattered and spectral in his eyes. A distinct sensation of deft fingers dipping into the thick, fibrous folds of his Thread as if seeking something deeper. It builds into a more insistent pressure, one that scrambles the mortal portion of his mind and makes the adrenaline spike within his system as if on the brink of death. All that leaves Zagreus' mouth though is a garbled groan, consonants and vowels erratically strung together as coherency fades into the background. 

Distantly, as if submerged within the rushing of his own blood, he can hear Thanatos calling. Maybe something like, "Are you alright?"  _ Is he alright? _ 'Alright' has ceased working as a metric once those fingers started diving in deeper and  _ deeper.  _ He manages a shaky nod, but everything else is running on base instincts, his hips indiscriminately chasing after his own pleasure as the touches to his Thread blessedly don't stop. 

Not until they reach the very  _ core _ \- Divine and Defiant all at once, equal parts Olympian and Chthonic, tightly encased within a primordial Darkness so potent that it  _ resonates _ when Thanatos connects to it, recognizing one of its own in that delicate touch. The next few moments stretch out and curl back in on themselves in a Ouroboros of contradictory sensations - bliss as gradual as the eons-long coalescing of the stars and pleasure as whip-crack quick as their explosive deaths. 

Even for an immortal, "over-stimulation" can't capture the totality of the experience and all Zagreus' overburdened body can do is pour it all outward in a quaking orgasm over his partner's hips. Whatever power had been keeping him steady burns out in the same moment, the Prince crumpling into a shivering ball at Thanatos' side. 

Any thoughts of pursuing his own pleasure (or cleaning up the mess) fall to the wayside as Thanatos curls protectively around his quivering Lover. "Shhh, you did so well," he soothes, wiping away the lingering tears and holding Zagreus through his hammering pulse and gasping breath. "Just relax, take your time." 

Slowly, gently, he manages to follow those low whispers back to a more familiar baseline. Cracking his eyes open, his pupils are still blown wide, leaving only thin rings of red and green gazing back at Death. "Thank you, Than," he murmurs, his voice low and drowsy with lingering satisfaction. "Can I… ?"

Shaking his head, Thanatos assures, "No, just rest now. This won't take long - you were _very_ inspiring." But as he takes himself in hand, he amends a moment later, "If you wish, you can keep up with this along with doing what you do best." He guides his Thread over mid sentence, but the only hint to the other request is a quick nip to Zagreus' lower lip. As well-fucked as he feels, the Prince momenterary takes that to mean _kissing_ and he manages a few sloppy ones before his partner corrects with a soft chuckle, "I meant, _talk_ _to me_ , Zag." 

Oh _that,_ now that he can do with hardly any effort at all. "If you insist," he teases as they both get comfortable. His eyes follow down the line of Thanatos' body, settling on his cock slick with lubricant and cum alike. With an unconscious lick of his lips, he starts with a sigh as his fingertips trace over the blurred bands of black and gold, "It was incredible, Than. I felt you - your Divinity - soul deep inside of me. Drawing me in and pushing inside at the same time." Still searching for the words while mired deep in afterglow, Zagreus attempts to continue, "Like the rush of defying death in the heat of battle and the warmth of your gifted Hearts all at once." 

Even with how tightly controlled Death could be, he still starts to slip in the face of that heated, breathless onslaught. Letting Zagreus' voice and soul deep touches wash over him in tandem, nothing else but the soft crackle of candles adding ambiance to the little world they made for themselves - a very rare indulgence indeed. Especially as he is drawing in closer and closer to cresting over with pleasure, his hand speeding up as the Prince's whispered words continue, "You give me so much and I appreciate every bit of it, every bit of you. How lucky are we to have a whole eternity to explore each other." 

And even though he was asked to talk, Zagreus still can't help but draw Death into a kiss as those beautiful bronze hips start shuddering. Catching the barest breath of Thanatos' immortal  _ pneuma _ at the tail end, he encourages with playful tangle of his fingers through the outer plys of that Thread, "I know you're so close, Beloved. Let me see you come - just for me." 

Compared to the Prince's haggard and haphazard orgasm, Thanatos' is a far quieter affair. A long hiss as he shudders his way through the pleasure, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched the entire time. When he finally comes down from his high, his eyes slide open again with all the warmth of the fragile dawn, golden and tender. At last, he guides the Threads back to their proper place in the Tapestry lest either of them forget. 

"Here, I should be recovered enough to handle the cleanup," Zagreus offers a moment later. And while it is probably not the proper use of a scrying pool, it at least provides enough water to drag a cloth through and then over them both. 

It at least makes it so they can cuddle close on the covers without too much worry, surrendering to the lingering quiet. Until Thanatos teases softly, "So, did that answer your question?"    
  
"And then some," the Prince answers back with a quiet chuckle. Glancing up from favorite pillow - i.e. welcoming the swell of Thanatos' chest - he considers for a moment, and then confesses, "There is just one more thing I was curious about though."    
  
"Is this going to lead to another round of very  _ enthusiastic _ answers?" To his credit, the elder God doesn't dismiss the idea outright. 

With a playful snort, Zagreus rushes onward, "I just want to know - is it really necessary to Cut the Threads with 9999 damage? And could you do that with any weapon or is only your Scythe capable of those numbers?" 

A few beats pass between them, Thanatos' face going on journey from confusion to contemplation and then back again to an even deeper confusion before he snaps back with, "What does any of that  _ even mean, _ Zag?"    
  
_ "The 9's, Than! _ I want to know how you do all 9's!" He counters, as if that explains absolutely anything. 

Already seeing the direction this is going and not wanting a repeat of the 'Hey Than, I'm pretty sure there's an old man only I can hear who has been narrating my life recently, is that weird?' argument, Thanatos relents and offers simply, "It's the Scythe." 

But rather than saving Death any trouble, it only creates more as his Lover quickly leaps upon the answer,  _ "I knew it! _ Than, let me borrow your Scythe - I want to see how fast I can escape with it equipped."   
  
"Zagreus, no," he chides with a withering look, sure to stop the conversation in its tracks. "Honestly, I'm supposed to be one of the most fearsome Gods in the whole pantheon and yet-" 

"Somehow, you love me." Between the soft but steady words and that smile - that damnable disarming smile - the Prince once again bests him. 

It's all he can do to gracefully admit defeat with a tired but fond sigh and the assurance of, "Somehow, I do love you." 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're curious, my official head canon for the bars and the visible damage numbers is that Zagreus' Godhood gives him an innate knowledge of exactly how much life energy everything around him has and that is how this power manifests itself. It's just something unique to him - like his other meta knowledge - and that's why no one else really understands it. 
> 
> And yes, the 9999 attacks Than uses are how his direct cutting of the Threads gets interpreted within this framework. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed even if this got away from me a few times - like Zag experiencing divine subspace and Than indulging in a bit of voice kink for example. But making sure no one ever forgets that Zag and Skelly are both voiced by Darren Korb? Completely intentional.
> 
> And maybe, eventually, I'll get around to the fic that explains their pet names? We'll see! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated and thank you for simply spending some time with my work as always.


End file.
